


In sickness

by huntersandangels



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sappy, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 20:40:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3869077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntersandangels/pseuds/huntersandangels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick is sick, Jonny is there, truths are told. (hopefully the story doesn't suck as much as this summary)</p>
            </blockquote>





	In sickness

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even remember how the conversation went but [Zarah](http://thesecellardoors.tumblr.com/) wanted a sick!fic and she's way too good at making me drop ficlets in her inbox!
> 
> I decided to post it here as well in case someone else was in the mood for sappy, fluff Kazer.
> 
> Requests are always open as is my askbox. Feel free to drop by. [tumblr](http://oflovesandlikes.tumblr.com/) alternatively [twitter](https://twitter.com/andielach)

 

 

Jonny is pacing up and down his living room while waiting for the call to connect. He has been trying to reach Patrick since yesterday to no avail.

His first two texts went unanswered but caused no worry because even though Pat is not as bad as Jonny at returning texts he sometimes misplaces his phone. An additional text and two calls later Jonny starting thinking he might have done something wrong. He doesn’t remember them fighting but once in a while he pisses off Patrick without even meaning to and while Jonny can’t stay mad at him for more than a couple of minutes, Patrick is a master at holding a grudge.

As this call goes straight to Pat’s voicemail again Jonny is in a panic mode. He knows firsthand that Pat always – _always-_ carries his charger with him after that -forbidden to be talked about- incident where Jonny was calling him to come home while Pat was strolling in Biel, his phone battery dead. It’s the first time since he bought his new house Jonny actually regrets his decision; his old condo was so close to Trump Tower.

He shoves his phone in his pocket, grabs his keys and dashes to his car. The drive to Pat’s, passes in a haze and a constant tapping of fingers in the steering wheel in every red light. The fact that Pat’s car is in its usual spot both calms and unnerves him.

Chris, the Tower’s doorman greets him with a smile “Good evening, Mr. Toews” any other night Jonny would have insisted he calls him Jon like he had asked years ago but now there are more important things at stake than courtesies.

“Hello, Chris” he greets because his mom would have smacked him upside the head for forgoing his manners, emergency or not “May I?” he asks pointing to the elevator. He’s itching to ask if Patrick is up but he doesn’t want to seem like he stopped by uninvited.  

“Of course, Mr. Toews” Chris replies and Jonny always gets a flutter in his chest every time someone acts like Jonny belongs there. It’s not like he doesn’t know the reason why, he just doesn’t voice it out loud in case it provokes the fates and his wish never comes true.

 He fumbles with his keys to find the one that opens Patrick’s door, getting frustrated that it hides somewhere between the dummy ones. People make fun of him when they jiggle and his fingers find it difficult to turn them on the lock due to the weight but Jonny has to hide the fact that the ‘emergency’ key is not tucked safely in his drawer but he carries it in his pocket every single minute. The moment he placed it in the key holder he had this paranoid notion that everyone would know, like it had a brand with Pat’s name on it so he hid one of his most valuable possessions in a sea of useless metal in an attempt to not show that it doesn’t really belong there; that Jonny doesn’t have the right to have it in plain sight as if it has a rightful place next to the one that reads _home_.

Pat’s place is dark, lights all out and that void at the pit of his stomach is starting to fill with bile. He flips on the switch and the worry intensifies. Pat’s living room looks like New Orleans after the hurricane. His coffee table is hidden under piles of boxes and discarded tissues that make a line all the way to the couch. Abandoned empty Gatorade bottles litter the carpet and a pile of blankets are bundled on the couch surface. Kaner is more meticulous than that and Jonny is always a worrier, let alone now that all signs point to panic.

“Kaner?” Jonny asks quietly, in case he’s still sleeping off a hangover. There’s no answer and Jonny gets more and more nervous. “Kaner?” he shouts a little louder and makes his way to the bedrooms.

By the time he searches every room and returns to the living room his ‘Kaners’ are frantic and he can feel the tears pooling in the corner of his eyes. Just as he’s debating whether to call Pat’s mom or the police directly, the bundle of blankets stirs and groans.

“Kaner?” he chokes a sob and rushes to his side. The bunch groans again when Jon tries to lower the blanket.

“Go ‘way” Pat groans, voice hoarse and sniffling.

“Pat” Jonny breathes a sigh of relief “what’s wrong?”

“’M sick. Go ‘way” his words are slurred and muffled by the fabric but Jonny can hear him sniffling again and in a weird way the tension in him easies; a cold he can handle.

“How long have you been under there?” he asks because it beats the alternative ‘ _you had me sick with worry_ ’ that would give away much more that Jonny consciously allows himself to reveal.

“Don’t know. Leave m’ alone. ‘M dying”

Jonny chuckles at Pat’s overdramatic statement “Come on” he says as he tries to lower the blanket “let’s get you out of there”

“No wanna” Pat whines “hurts” and grips the fabric tighter, curling more into himself.

Jonny’s heart hurts along with Patrick. He can’t really help it. The slightest discomfort Pat feels stabs Jonny right in the soul. “Don’t be such a baby, Kaner” he forces a scolding sound though all he wants to do is wrap Patrick in his arms and find a way to take away his pain.

He walks away though and turns the light switch so just a hint of light is visibly “Come on. I lowered the lights. Get up. You need fluids and we need to take your temperature” He lowers the blankets again and this time, though he grunts, Pat does start to move.

He blinks a few times until his eyes adjust to the light. They’re glassy and red, cheeks and nose flushed and his lips are chapped. It must have been a while since he last drank something. Jonny sighs heavily.

“Baby” he says it with an edge, like a tease but what he really wants to do is coo and call him baby in an entirely different sense, pet his curls and kiss his temple.

“Fuck off” Patrick retorts and clearly Jonny is a much better actor than he gives himself credit for. Not that that’s an indication because Pat is pretty oblivious, Jonny has been mooning over him for years and still he has no clue whatsoever. Or he does and just plays dumb but Jonny doesn’t even want to think of that alternative.

 

Jonny helps him sit up and lean his weight to the couch’s back “I’ll go get the thermometer and a bottle of water”. Patrick grunts but nods. He raises his hand and rubs his nose on his sleeve “You’re a pig!” Jonny chastises as he grabs him by the arm and lowers his hand. He finds a clean tissue and hands it to him “Here you go” he says softer this time because Pat is looking pathetic in his current state and as previously stated Jonny has a soft spot for him.

Patrick blows his nose “Fuck you. No one asked you here anyway”

Jonny walks away because the truth of the statement hurts even though is being said so Patrick can save face. In reality, it’s been a long while since Pat needed him and never in the way that Jonny always wished he did.

Jonny goes to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of water and a Gatorade; he opens the drawer he knows Patrick keeps a spare bottle of Tylenol but can’t locate the thermometer. “Where’s your therm-“he tries to ask as he walks back to Pat only to find him with the thermometer in his mouth smiling smugly around it.

 Jonny is so gone for his stupid face it’s not even funny, it’s actually sad and pathetic at this point but he had made his peace with it a while back and even though he doesn’t admit it out loud he wouldn’t change that feeling for anything in the world; not even for another Cup! Sacrilegious as it may be it’s Jonny’s baneful reality.

 His phone chimes and saves him from looking at Pat with heart eyes, making a fool of himself in the process “Hello?” he looks at Pat and mouths ‘your mom’ and sees Pat’s eyes widen and fill with terror. It seems Jonny was not the only one who couldn’t get a hold of him lately “No, Mrs.Kane- yes, of course, Donna. I’m here with him, he’s a little sick but he’s fine”

Jonny nods along at Donna’s words and Pat’s pleading eyes around the thermometer, that’s still in his mouth, make him look like a puppy and if there was a list of things Jonny couldn’t resist that would register on the top. “No, it was my fault actually. I apologize. He asked me to get him a new charger and I only managed to get it to him this afternoon. I’m really sorry, I didn’t think of calling you. Sore throat and a fever...no, no, he’s doing good-rehydrated himself and everything” he looks around the dirty plates on the coffee table that are still half full “I’ll heat him up some soup and get him some Tylenol, he’ll be fine, don’t worry. That’s not necessary, Mrs. K- Donna. I’ll stay here with him and we’ll call you again in the morning... It’s really no trouble at all. Really”

He doesn’t dare look at Pat’s way as he speaks because even though he can’t hear what his mom says he must have a pretty good picture from Jonny’s replies and he’s too afraid to see his reaction. He also hides his flushed face that heats up with Donna’s praise and thanks for being such a good friend to her son. “Yes, of course...Give my best to your family...Good night”

“You didn’t hav’ to lie” Pat’s voice is hoarse probably from the illness and comes out strained but Jonny can sense the disapproval on his tone and something else he can’t decipher “Don’t need you to clean up my messes”

Jonny takes a deep breath at the stab, it’s not like he’s not aware he’s not needed here-let alone wanted- “Did you want your mom to worry you’re so sick you can’t even charge your phone?” He can see the flash of guilt in Pat’s glassy eyes.

“Sorry” Patrick says sheepishly “Thank you” he mumbles as an afterthought.

Jonny smiles at him softly, it’s his default expression he can’t really help it. “Give me the thermometer” he demands to cover the fondness. He doesn’t wait for Pat to hand it to him; he just grabs it from his hands.

“Bossy fucker” Pat mumbles again, low but not enough so Jonny can’t hear it. “103” he announces and for good measure he places his hand to Pat’s forehead. He’s burning up, no wonder he’s so out of it he hasn’t kicked Jonny out yet “Come on” he says “let’s get you a Tylenol”.

He gives Pat the pill and the bottle of water and he does not watch the way his throat bobbles as he gulps it down-he does not! “That’s it” he encourages “Just a little more, you need to stay hydrated”

Patrick scoffs around the bottle brim but drinks it nonetheless “Good job” he says when Pat finishes the whole thing. Pat mumbles again but this time Jonny can’t make out what he says but he’s pretty sure it’s not a thank you. “Want something to eat?”

Patrick shakes his head “Can’t keep it down”

Jonny bites the inside of his cheek not to wince “Want me to go get you some crackers?”

Patrick shakes his head again “Wanna sleep” he says and sniffles. Jonny hands him a tissue before he uses his sleeve again.

“It’d be best if you took a warm shower” Jonny suggests. He knows it can help with the fever.

“Can’t stand. Dizzy” Pat sighs and it makes him cough.

“Jesus! Why didn’t you say anything? Come on, let’s get you to bed” he doesn’t wait for Pat’s protest; he just slides his hand under his arm and urges him to lean his weight on Jonny. To his surprise Pat lets him manhandle him.

It’s not an easy route to Pat’s bedroom, they stumble a lot and Jonny has to half drag him there but fortunately they make it in one piece. He helps Patrick into bed, tucks him in and catches himself brushing a few stray curls off his forehead. His eyes widen when he realises what he did but Patrick doesn’t seem to register the gesture so Jonny breathes a sigh of relief.

He hovers awkwardly for a while and decides to get some compresses to put on Pat’s forehead. As he gets to leave he hears Pat whisper something “What?”

“You leaving?” Pat asks as he peeks from under the blankets.

“I’m just going to the kitchen to bring a wet cloth” he pauses uncertain “you want me to go?” he asks reluctantly, afraid of what the answer might be. Not that Jonny would leave, he did promise Donna Kane to stay the whole night and that’s one scary lady Jonny does not want to cross.

Patrick shrugs but the way he worries his bottom lip between his teeth make Jonny think he’s lying “You don’t hav’ to be here. Must have better things to do”

Jonny sighs heavily “I don’t” he answers truthfully because there’s nothing more important than Patrick. He rushes to the kitchen so he doesn’t have to explain that to him.

He brings back the cloth and a bowl with cool water and settles next to Patrick, gently placing the fabric on his forehead. It helps that Pat doesn’t take much space on the bed though it hurts Jonny to see him look even smaller than usual.

“Thank you” Patrick whispers after Jonny had turned the cloth a couple of times.

“No problem, buddy”

“’M sorry”

Jonny is puzzled “For what?”

“Being forced to take care of me” Patrick says it like he’s ashamed and Jonny is tempted to offer to do it for the rest of his life, if only he’d be given half a chance.

“No one forced me, Pat” he clarifies.

“Captain’s duties, eh?” Pat’s voice sounds so small, so strained but Jonny feels his blood boil.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Really?” Patrick shrugs.

“I- You- Just- really?- I can’t- I can’t do this right now” he really can’t because Patrick is sick and vulnerable and what Jonny wants to do is shake the hell out of him and yell to his face which would be anything but productive and might make Patrick cry; Jonny hates it when Patrick cries, it breaks his fucking heart.

Patrick’s lower lip starts to wobble and Jonny hates himself a little. He settles down next to him again and changes the cloth. The puffed breath and almost mewling sound that escapes Pat’s lips from the contact make Jonny’s whole body tingle. He will be horrified with himself later, that he’s still capable of dirty thoughts while Pat is in this state but right now he just revels in the feeling of closeness and warmth and Pat’s breath on him.

He stays by his side until his breath evens out and Pat’s is fast asleep, then settles himself in Pat’s ridiculous armchair-he refuses to call it a throne- and though he’ll never admit it he’s thankful for the monstrosity because it’s actually very comfortable.

He feels himself dozing off after a while but just when he’s about to wander in a land where wishes come true he hears Pat groan and turn. He jumps up as if being stung by a thousand bees and rushes to his side.

“What’s wrong?” he asks

“Cold” Pat croaks and this close he can see him click his teeth. He doesn’t stop to think, he just acts; he lowers his head and places his lips softly in Pat’s forehead.

“It’s alright. It’s just your fever going down. You’ll feel hot in a few minutes. I’ll get you a dry towel ‘cause you’ll start to sweat” he starts to stand up but Pat’s voice stops him on his tracks.

“Stay” he says and it’s a plea if Jonny has ever heard any.

Jonny does; he settles back down and Pat scoots closer to him. Jonny’s unsure of what to do, the angle is wrong and puts strain in his back but he can’t make himself pull away from Pat.

Patrick on his part makes everything more difficult because he keeps burrowing further to Jonny’s side, groaning when he can’t get comfortable. He doesn’t ask Jonny to lie down, not with words but there’s no other option if they’re both to be comfortable.

Jonny takes off his shoes and makes his way under the covers. Pat scoots further away to give him room and the moment Jonny settles he plasters himself on his side again.

Jonny doesn’t even fight himself; he opens his arm and lets Pat hide his face on his chest. He wraps his arm around him and starts petting his curls. He has so much to lose but he really can’t help it. Patrick lets out content sighs so at least for now Jonny can have this.

They stay like that for a while and when Jonny makes sure Pat doesn’t stir he lowers his head and leaves a kiss on top of his head.

It startles him that it’s followed by a kiss from Pat right where his heart beats wildly under his chest.

“Jonny?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you” It’s not that Jonny doesn’t appreciate the gratitude, it’s just that his actions are not driven by the need to be given credit.

“No problem, buddy” Jonny thinks Patrick huffs at that.

“You didn’t have to”

“I know”

“But you- why?” Patrick asks.

Jonny can say a million things; he can play it off as a best friend caring thing or explain everything, lay his cards on the table, as he’s clearly being given a chance. He does neither “Because” it’s not the start of an explanation, is a reason all on itself.

“Because- because you love me?” Jonny thinks it’s a tease at first but Patrick asks it hesitantly and he knows that all Pat’s insecurities surface when he’s not a hundred percent and on his game.

He takes a deep breath “Yeah”

“Like- like more?”

“More than what, Pat?” he doesn’t call him Kaner, this feel too much of something to put that distance between them.

“More than... others”

Jonny’s mouth is dry and his throat clicks as he tries to swallow “I love you best” he says, because even though he gives Patrick half-truths sometimes, he never lies to him.  

“I-“ Pat just leans closer even if there’s no space between them and whispers the words right on Jonny’s heart “love you best as well” he takes a deep breath that Jonny feels it to his chest “Different, too” he adds in a whisper, like it’s still a secret.

Jonny feels tears well in his eyes- happy tears and an overwhelming wave of joy. He tightens his arm around him, squeezing Pat to his chest which is possibly uncomfortable but neither of them seems to be bothered.

Jonny clears his throat “Different is good...I- I like different”

Patrick squeezes him as hard as he can in his current state “Yeah?”

“Absolutely”


End file.
